


take the the trouble and make it double

by LadyxIris, uhjpg



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Marvel (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental kidnapping, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Time Travel, and then suddenly this fic came out of nowhere bjsjcschjjs, but good crack!, damian just wants his family back ajsjhshdhsjs, damian meets the fantastic four from 1996 lmao, its a v niche interest ngl bUT, its basically an importance of family fic uwu, kristoff hates him and damian mocks him right back, so its crack., uhhhh yall this started out as a joke idk how we actually started writing it lmfao, we were like lmao damian and kristoff would throw down in a chillis parking lot, you should read it bjaxbjscbja
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-03-06 11:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18850381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyxIris/pseuds/LadyxIris, https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhjpg/pseuds/uhjpg
Summary: Just when Damian thinks things can't possibly get any worse (a dangerous thing to think, the universe somehow always ends up taking it as a challenge), it does. It gets much, much worse. Of course, he's used to 'worse'; he just wasn't expecting to end up in a different dimension (in 1996 no less) is all. He's beginning to miss 'sibling bonding day' more and more by the minute...Kristoff, on the other hand, is sure things could get worse, and as usual, they do. Throw in a snappy kid superhero from another universe, and things just go downhill from there.For both of them, there's nothing good about the current situation, but perhaps a lesson can be learned through even the most difficult experiences.





	1. conflict

**Author's Note:**

> okie dokie folks, this started out as a joke between tay (who loves the ff more than she loves air) and i (who loves the batfam more than is probably healthy). We had noticed some similarities between Kristoff and Damian and were like "lmao they'd probably hate each other at first until they realized that they could literally help each other achieve anything" and then we were like "oh no" and somehow this fic popped into existence lmfao. 
> 
> anYWAYS tay writes all the fantastic four scenes and i write all the damian [and batfam] scenes uwu.

 

**DATE: May 3rd, 2019**

**TIME: 11:08 AM**

**LOCATION: Gotham City; The Batcave**

**POV: DAMIAN WAYNE**

  
  


If the cold atmosphere, shrieking bats, and general aura of doom and gloom didn’t make you itch to get out of the cave as soon as possible, the ridiculously loud shouts his siblings were emitting certainly would. Not that Damian would ever admit to that out loud, thank you very much, but currently the Batcave was the last place he wanted to be. Even the intense training he went through as a small child with Mother on Infinity Island was becoming more and more appealing by the moment. 

 

“Three strikes, you’re out!” Drake crows triumphantly from his perch near the computer monitor, pointing at Todd who was currently trying to wiggle free from Richard’s grasp to no avail.

 

“Bullshit, Timmy,” grunts Todd as he tries to escape once more, “this is sparring, not baseball.”

 

Drake waves his hand dismissively. “Baseball, dancing, same game.”

 

Todd looks up from where he was pinned to the floor. “Really? High School Musical references? Right now?”

 

“Actually that’s from High School Musical Two, Little Wing.” Laughs Richard as he lets Todd go and grasps his hand, helping him up. “Good fight!”

 

Todd sends him an unimpressed look. “ _ That  _ wasn’t a fight; that was you doing a cheerleading routine while I tried to dodge your legs.”

 

“Don’t be such a sore loser, Jaybird.”

 

Damian scoffs, and the noise reverberates loudly through the cave. 

 

Richard looks up at him and frowns ever so slightly. “Dami! Come over here with the rest of us! This can’t be a family bonding day if you don’t actually bond with your family!”

 

Mentally, Damian rolls his eyes. Physically, he keeps his face clear of all emotion as he drags his feet towards where his siblings are standing. The last thing he wanted to do was to waste time on useless activities.

 

Father was out on an important mission and he should be with him, not stuck in the cave with two imbeciles and Richard. He had kept his reservations to himself while Father had instructed them on what to do while he was gone, but he finds himself wishing more and more that he had spoken up and requested to accompany Father. 

 

Whatever he was doing couldn’t be more tasteless than watching Todd and Drake have a speed eating contest that resulted in Richard having to perform the Heimlich Maneuver on both of them simultaneously. The amount of half-chewed food that had been spewed across the floor was almost impressive, but then Pennyworth came in and with a very unimpressed tone of voice informed them that they  _ all  _ had to clean it up because they all had somehow taken part in it.

 

So yes, he would much rather prefer to be with Father at the moment. He’d much rather face an army of aliens than spend another day cleaning up after his brothers’ shenanigans. There  _ had  _ been a reason Father had put _ him  _ in charge; of course, Damian had the slightest suspicion that his father had been joking but the sentiment remained.

 

Richard was childish and had a tendency to get distracted.

 

Todd was a bumbling oaf who wrecked everything he touched.

 

Drake was a disaster all on his own, and that was when he had a decent amount of sleep. 

 

So as the only functional member of his family present, he had to ensure that the Manor was somewhat habitual by the time Father returned. Or at least until Cassandra returned home. With that in mind, he straightens out his shoulders and walks a little faster as he makes his way to his siblings.

 

He’s immediately engulfed into a hug, which he tolerates for about five seconds before wiggling out of Richard’s strong embrace. 

 

“Aww, don’t be like that Dami.”

 

“Tt.”

 

Richard raises an eyebrow at him but doesn’t comment. “Wanna spar?”

 

Damian is tempted to say yes, but he knows that Richard is asking him as an attempt to engage him, so he shakes his head. He is aware he is acting like a child, but he can’t bring himself to stop at the moment. 

 

Richard sighs, but asks Drake instead, who nods and hops off of his chair.

 

Todd grabs Richard as he begins to walk towards the sparring area. “No way man, it’s my turn to spar with Timbolina. You can babysit the Demon Spawn.” Before running after Drake, who was already warming up. 

 

Huffing slightly, Damian crosses his arms and watches the two of them spar.

 

“Tt. Horrible form.”

 

Richard exhales sharply through his nose and when Damian looks up at him, he can see that Richard is doing his best not to laugh.

 

Drake lands a solid punch on Jason’s stomach. Damian eyes at Richard, who’s turning red from trying not to laugh.

 

Todd tries to sweep out Drake’s legs, but he ends up tripping both Drake and himself so they both topple to the floor and Richard bursts out laughing.

 

Both of them look up at Richard with flat facial expressions.

 

“Yanno,  _ Dick, _ ” Todd begins conversationally, “I’ve never met a person whose name embodies them the way your’s does.”

 

Richard nods gravely. “You’re right. In fact,” He pulls out his phone and types something into the search engine. “Richard means ‘ruler, leader, king, powerful, strong, and brave’. Those things  _ all  _ apply to me! How funny.”

 

Todd rolls his eyes and flips him off.

 

Damian scoffs. Mother said only morons used obscene language and gestures, and she was right.

 

Drake skips over to them. “Sparring is boring. Let’s go upstairs and watch a movie. If we play our cards right we can maybe get away with stealing junk food from the kitchen before Alfred catches us.”

 

“Before I catch you doing what exactly, Master Tim?” Pennyworth’s posh voice rings through the cave and Drake yelps and jumps a foot into the air; he would deny it later on, of course, but he most certainly did.

 

Todd grins smoothly. “Hey, Alfie. Timmers here was saying that we should go behind your back and steal  _ junk food  _ from the kitchen. Which the rest of us would  _ never  _ do.”

 

Pennyworth raises an eyebrow at him, impassive as always. “If you are hungry, you can eat healthy, nutritious foods, none of that  _ junk.” _

 

He looks at them, waiting for them to argue (but everyone knows that Pennyworth’s word is final) before placing down a tray of sandwiches. “Lunch.”

 

The rest of his siblings crowed the tray, but Damian stays back, watching them eat with disinterest. 

 

“This is a waste of time.” He snaps, and they all look up at him. “We should be helping Father, not clowning away in the cave.”

 

Richard frowns. “Dami, he’s on official league business, he can’t bring any of us on those trips. We’re not league members.”

 

Damian purses his lips. “This is stupid. This family bonding exercise is  _ stupid.” _

 

“Little D, how is spending time with your family stupid?”

 

“It’s a waste of time. We could be getting actual work done instead of this.”

 

Richard sighs. “How can you get along with others if you don’t get along with your family?” Todd snorts at that statement and Richard elbows him in the ribs.

 

“I’m leaving,” snaps Damian, “I don’t want to be here with you cretins.”

 

“By all means,” mutters Todd, “None of us wanted you here either.”

 

“ _ Jason,”  _ Richard warns through gritted teeth, but Damian is already walking away.

 

He doesn’t look back until a thin blue light grasps his ankles and begins dragging him into the ground. Turing frantically around, the last thing he sees is Richard, Todd, and Drake all running towards him, before he vanishes, the word “Richard?” still not fully formed on his tongue. 

 

The world around him morphs from black to bright blue with thin white veins coursing through it. He reaches out to touch the blue, hoping that it was just an elaborate light trick that Drake was playing on him. Unfortunately, it was solid, and it shocks him the moment he makes contact with him, knocking him unconscious.  

 

When he wakes up, he has a terrible headache. He now understands how Todd feels after coming home after drinking too much. What he doesn’t understand is  _ why  _ Todd keeps on doing it though. Probably a lack of brain cells.

 

Opening his eyes briefly, he’s met with bright lights. He frowns. Is he in a laboratory? 

His eyes grow accustomed to the glare, but he pretends he is still unconscious in case his kidnapper was waiting for him to awaken. If his kidnapper believed he was still unconscious, he’d have the advantage. He peeks just the slightest bit to see who is kidnapper was, and directly above him was a man sporting a lab coat, goggles, and gray streaks on either side of his hair.

 

“Oh dear,” the man said, lifting the goggles from his eyes. “That was  _ not  _ supposed to happen.”

 

Damian lets out a low growl; he had not been having a good day, and that was before he was kidnapped from his home and brought to a  _ laboratory.  _ He shifts his position ever so slightly to grip his katana. This man would pay.


	2. smoke bombs and other wrongs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so we already had this one written and i have no patience so we're posting it know ujhshscj

**DATE: May 3rd, 1996**

**TIME: 11:08 AM**

**LOCATION: Four Freedoms Plaza, Manhattan**

**POV: Kristoff Vernard**

 

Kristoff Vernard jumped awake at the touch of another’s skin. Eyes still blurry, he sat straight up and hollered, “Who dares!”

 

“I do, kristy ol’ kid. I dare,” Scott Lang replied, opening the blinds to allow sunlight to pour in.

 

“I  _ warned  _ you the  _ first  _ time, ant-brain, to not call me that. Now feel the wrath of your ignorance!” He lashed out with his hands wildly, not making contact even once.

 

“Chill it, Kristy,” Scott smirked, leaning against a wall. “I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is ready.

 

“I don’t deserve this degradation,” Kristoff pouted, still groggy. “I have the intelligence of Victor von Doom and he would  _ definitely _ not allow such behavior. If you continue this, I’ll just run back home to Latveria.”

 

“First of all,” Scott said, checking his watch. “We are aware of that. We are  _ all  _ aware that you had… have? The brain of Doom. It’s not like you attacked the Fantastic Four or anything.”

 

“They brainwashed me to think I was Doctor Doom. It’s not my fault they reprogrammed my brain,” the boy mumbled.

 

“What was that?”

 

“Nothing,” Kristoff snarled.

 

“Whatever you say, kid,” Scott continued. “Second of all, we know you’re not going back to Doom. If you were going to, you would’ve done it by now.”

 

Kristoff looked away, throwing his sheets off him and pulling his armored boot on. Scott’s face became soft for a moment. “What happened back there?” Scott asked. “Back with the fight against Hyperstorm. One moment you were ready to give anything to reconnect with your adoptive father, the next time we see you you’re completely fine with throwing a punch at him. You found him? Did he say something to you?”

 

“Scott Lang,” Kristoff growled, armoring up. “I would appreciate it if you would exit my room.  _ Now.”  _

 

“Alrighty, kid” Scott said, heading out the door. “Sorry if I touched a soft spot. But through all the teasing you’ve put me through, maybe I’m not.” Scott exited the room, but a few seconds later his head popped back in the door. “I’m kidding. I  _ am _ sorry. Now come get some breakfast.”

 

Walking down the hallway, Kristoff saw his reflection in the metallic floor, and instantly looked away. He had put it on in habit, yet he shunned it now. His armor was the creation of Doom, a scar that turned others away from him. His crush, Scott Lang’s own daughter Cassie Lang, had already been scared away by the personage he wore. He wished to get rid of it, to throw it down a well and be rid of Doom’s influence forever, but there was no escaping. He had Doom’s intelligence, his memories, everything. And he knew that without that armor, he was nothing. Kristoff’s brooding was interrupted by a yell from a few doors over.

 

“Sue? Johnny? Anyone?” a man frantically yelled, and Kristoff recognized it as Reed’s voice. From the same room came a vicious scream, in which Reed yelped in return, and then the noise of furniture being toppled over. Kristoff rushed over to find Richards restraining a small boy with his elastic arms. The boy had dark hair, vicious green eyes, was dressed in colorful combat gear completed with a cape, wielded a katana, and definitely looked ready to kill somebody. 

 

“Kristoff! Thank goodness! Help me out while I reverse this dimensional transporter.” Without warning, Richards released the little devil, who went tearing after Richards again. Kristoff dived and grabbed his leg, tripping the boy.

 

“Let go of me, imbecile!” The boy yelled, kicking at Kristoff, whose forcefield absorbed most of the brunt. 

 

The boy, using his small size to his advantage, slips through Kristoff’s arms as he tries to grab the child’s torso and flips over Kristoff and lands behind him, landing a lucky kick to his head. The helmet absorbs most of the blow, but he’s still thrown forwards and as he adjusts himself, he sees the demon racing towards Reed, still gripping his katana. 

 

He runs after the child, cursing him under his breath. The Fantastic Four may have thought  _ he  _ was bad, but after their encounter with this demon, they’ll probably view him as a poster child.

 

He grabs at the kid’s cape, but the child was obviously expecting this and dodges his attempt, increasing his speed and lunging for Reed. Reed ducks out of the way, but the kid just grabs onto his wrist and grabs his pressure points.

 

Reed, of course, just thins his wrist and removes it, however, the kid had anticipated that exact move, and has already removed a tablet from his utility belt, he threw it at Reed. As soon as the tablet made contact with Reed, ice spread over his entire lower body, as well as his arms. If the kid wasn’t trying to kill him, Reed would probably be fascinated. 

 

“You clearly have the abilities of Plastic Man” The child observes, readying his katana (Kristoff has no idea who Plastic Man is and from the looks of it, neither does Reed). “However, unlike Plastic Man, you are a coward who resorted to kidnapping in the most unorthodox way possible and Mother says that any man who attacks dishonorably must die.”

 

Kristoff raises an eyebrow and arrogantly lunges at the child, expecting the armor’s speed to catch him off guard, but he wasn’t fast enough. The kid sees him and throws something at him, which Kristoff dodges easily, however as soon as it makes contact with the ground the room is filled with a thick smoke obscuring his view. He hears noises echoing throughout the room, and wildly shot energy blasts at where he thought the child was, hoping to land one hit. Fog removers were definitely something he was going to put on his “to-do” list. After wandering for a bit, he crashes into something and hears a mechanical groan. When he looks up, he finds Reed’s machine broken in half. That didn’t look good.

 

Remembering Reed, he spins around frantically and sees the boy looking at Reed, katana lowed. “Mother says kill the unworthy, but Father says never take a life, even if they deserve it. Because I live under Father’s jurisdiction, I will spare your life for now. But should you touch my siblings, I will not hesitate to end you.” The kid then sinks into the remaining smoke and when the room clears, the child is gone.

 

Kristoff was stunned for a moment but then regained his usual egotistical posture. “Ha.” He scoffs. “The child thought  _ you  _ were a villain. If Doom were here he’d adopt the child on the spot.” Reed wasn’t paying attention, however - he was too busy investigating his broken machine. Kristoff removed his mask.

 

“That may have been me,” Kristoff says curtly. His last words of  _ I apologize  _ hung in the air unsaid, and he wasn’t sure  _ why  _ he couldn’t say it.

 

“Don’t worry Kristoff, it wasn’t you,” Reed said, his face growing more exasperated the more he analyzed the destruction. “It was a localized grenade. He -” Reed sunk down to the floor, covering his eyes and thinking. “He just doomed himself.”

 

“Reed?” Sue yelled from down the hallway, and in a few seconds (almost) the entire (extended) Fantastic Four was within the room.

 

“What happened here?” Ben Grimm asked, looking around the trashed laboratory. Reed was still sitting on the floor, his back against the wall.

 

“Reed, honey? What happened?” Sue kneeled beside him.

 

“I can’t send him back now,” he whispered, obviously deep in thought.

 

“Who?” Lyja asked, her skrull physique shapeshifting to include wings so that she could surveil the room.

 

“The boy,” Reed responded. “He must’ve been only ten…”

 

“Ha!” Johnny shouted, keeling over with laughter. “You’re telling me you got beat by a  _ ten-year-old?” _

 

“This isn’t a laughing matter, you fool,” Kristoff frowned at Johnny, who then turned back upon Kristoff.

 

“Kristoff, ol’ kristy ol’ pal,” Johnny started, and Kristoff resisted the urge to strangle him. Scott stifles his laughter from across the room - it was his fault anybody called him that at all. “The way I see it, you’re just sore that you were beaten by someone a full two years younger than you.”

 

“And where were you?” Kristoff stuck his tongue out at Johnny. “Shameful, a full ten years older and you couldn’t help out at all? I did more than you could ever do.”

 

“Yeah, okay, Mr. Mini Doom, you -”

 

“Guys!” Sue yelled, and all eyes turned to her. “We have a matter at hand!”

 

Kristoff bowed his head, “My deepest apologies, madam.” Sue nodded but was focusing on Reed.

 

“Don’t you dare pull that, kid,” Johnny snapped, plopping down onto the desk chair. “You only respect women and with everyone else, you're a little devil. That-”

 

“Johnny,  _ please _ .” Sue twisted to face Johnny, her eyes throwing daggers. He sighed and shut up. She turned back to Reed and nudged him to tell more.

 

He finally explained everything. “I was trying out the dimensional transporter I built this morning. It teleports things from different universes and dimensions without us having to physically visit it, which would make things like supply runs to the negative zone and such  _ much  _ easier,” he breathed, and finally stood up. “After my third test run, something went wrong…  _ very  _ wrong. Instead of transporting in an unknown element named ‘kryptonite’, I accidentally transported… a child…”

 

Scott Lang tilted his head. “How do you ‘accidentally’ teleport in a  _ living child _ instead of a rock.”

 

“It’s a prototype, Scott,” Reed sighed. “I made it this morning.”

 

“The morning has barely started!” Scott remarked.

 

“To be fair, it is 12 PM,” came a voice from outside the room. In walked Nathaniel Richards, Reed’s time-traveling father who was currently staying with the Fantastic Four.  _ For now _ .

 

“Look who decided to waltz in,” Kristoff scoffed.

 

“I was finishing breakfast. You all seemed like you had it under control.”

 

“Wait,” Sue asked Reed. “Where is the child?”

 

“That’s just it, he destroyed the machine, threw a smoke bomb, and vanished,” Reed responded. “The machine can be recreated, but the exact coordinates back to his dimension have been lost… there are infinite dimensions out there, and there is no way of knowing which exact one he came from.”

 

“Where the heck did a 10-year-old get a  _ bomb?” _ Asks Johnny. His question was ignored.

 

“That’s definitely a revoltin’ development, but where is he  _ now? _ ” Ben asked.

 

“Somewhere within the building,” Reed replied, turning to another device and looking at the security camera footage. “With the security, I’ve put in place, there’s no way he’ll be getting out. Now the hard part is to find him. Be warned, he has advanced training. I’m not sure from where, or how, but this child is deadlier than most supervillains we’ve fought.”

 

“Are we splitting up?” Lyja asked, who finally landed while making her wings disappear.

 

“Seems for the best,” Reed responded, not taking his eyes off the screen. 

 

The rest of the Fantastic Four split up, each taking a different hallway and floor, yet Reed remained. Kristoff walked up beside him and looked over his shoulder, curious what he was so intently watching. He was studying the child’s fight patterns, his words, everything. And in one frame, with a clear shot of the child’s face, he had the computer run an identity scan on the boy. As the computer searched the database for the face recognition of every human that has ever lived, Kristoff stared into the eyes of this spiteful, seemingly emotionless boy. He saw some of himself in him but refused to acknowledge it. And as the seconds ticked on, the computer finally found its match:

 

**NO MATCH FOUND.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading uwu


	3. motion sensors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay im just adding all the chapters we've written cuz i have zero (0) patience

**DATE: May 3rd, 1996**

**TIME: 12:48 PM**

**LOCATION: Four Freedoms Plaza, Manhattan**

**POV: DAMIAN WAYNE**

 

He hacked the motion sensors.

 

When he had first moved into the Manor and was still negotiating with Father to become Robin, Richard had swung by to meet him. When he heard that he wanted to be Robin, Richard had let out a strange cackle and announced “Well Little D, if you wanna be Robin, you  _ have  _ to be able to hack motion sensors. It's like an initiation ritual.” Damian had obviously been able to hack into computers with ease and was quick to inform Richard of that. 

 

Richard had just laughed and insisted on going over the steps of hacking motion sensors with him anyways. Damian just snapped an insult at him, but Richard just went right on with instructing him, which had perplexed Damian that the man had ignored his insult so easily that he stayed and watched the whole thing. Father had looked like he wanted to bash his head into a wall.

 

Now, he was glad for that extra bit of training as he crawled through the vents of the building, looking at the holo-computer that projected from his left glove, which showed him the blueprints of the building. 

 

The hologram beeps and he turns left, ducking as the vent became smaller. He stops and frowns. Sitting against the wall of the (surprisingly clean) vent, he tries to hack into the security system once more. The vents all led to the outside of the building, but they all had a security system so sophisticated that Damian simply could not hack into. It infuriated him.

 

The security system seemed to require voice activation, amongst other things, and he hadn't had enough time to observe the man's voice pattern to be able to properly mimic it during the fight.

 

Speaking of the fight, he cursed himself for not putting his domino mask on when he was in the cave. He had assumed he was safe in the Batcave, with only his family present. He was becoming rusty. Now these scum knew what he looked like. He hopes they won't be able to trace him back to Father, he doesn't want him to be harmed because of his own foolishness. He takes his domino mask out from his utility belt and slaps it into his face. He would not make this mistake again.

 

The hacking program on his holo-computer halts. _ ERROR _ , it tells him in bright red letters. He sighs irritably. 

 

He would not be getting out through here, he'd have to sneak out the front door. Of course, he was trained by the Shadows to be the equivalent of a shadow, but it was a bit harder with the people in the building on the lookout for him. 

 

Inhaling deeply to calm himself, he types into his holocomp and brings up his footage of the fight between the rip-off Plastic Man and the child who seemed to believe that he was from the Medieval Europe era. He looks at the suit of armor the child was wearing and turns up his nose. “Tt. He looks like he's going to a LARPing session. How undignified.”

 

The man has Plastic Man's powers, as well as his pitiful excuse for martial arts skills. Perhaps a clone…

The man didn't seem to be fighting to kill, or even injure, now that Damian looked back, and he frowns. He replays the scene where the man restrains him. The man seems like he was just trying to save himself from Damian. He pauses the footage.

 

Damian will admit that was not his finest moment, but in his defense, he  _ was  _ taken against his will and teleported to a laboratory.

 

He presses play again, observing and cataloging the man's movements for a later time. When the child, “Kristoff”, the man had called him, appears, Damian does the same with him.

 

His armor seems to be enhanced somehow and he's pretty sure that the kid's a metahuman. He was too strong and too fast to be just human, especially when he seemed so untrained. Of course, he could get his abilities from his suit, and Damian was convinced the suit grants him more abilities or at least enhances his abilities, but the child was simply too untrained to be able to use the suit well. He had to be a metahuman.

 

He takes a closer look, zooming in on the armored person, his suspicions confirmed. While the suit gave off the appearance of a grown man, the person inhabiting the suit was a child, and the suit didn't fit him properly. Damian raises an eyebrow. It was foolish to jump into a fight with improper gear. He briefly wonders who thought it would be a good idea to allow this untrained child to join this group.

 

He frowns. He doesn't like not knowing who he's up against, and he has no idea who these people are. He doesn't think that Father even has them in his files. Which seems strange, since this technology is so advanced. He'd have to speak to Father about this when he gets home.

 

He sighs again and he frowns. With all the sighing he was doing lately, he was beginning to sound like Richard. Next thing you know he'll be grunting instead of speaking just like Father. He bites back a cringe. For all his talk of wanting to be like Father, there were certain things that he hoped and prayed he'd never pick up, like his ridiculous grunting habit.

 

He types a command into his computer and the blueprints appear once more, with directions to the nearest exit. The vent closest to the exit was about twenty feet away from the door, but he'd be able to handle it. 

 

He beings crawling through the intricate vents once more, following the directions that were displayed in front of him.

 

-

 

He reaches the vent and opens it as quietly as possible. He takes a small wire from his belt and pokes it through the opening. A camera. The visual is displayed on his computer, and the area comes back clear. He puts away the wire and turns off the hologram.

 

Dropping down into a silent crouch, he makes his way towards the exit.

 

Fifteen feet.

 

A man who was made entirely of flames blunders past him and Damian freezes, melting into the shadow of the potted plant that was next to him. The man doesn't even look at his direction as he continues on, muttering “this is a waste of time.”

 

Damian could agree with that statement. He should be at home watching his siblings make complete fools out of themselves, not trying to escape from a ridiculously well-secured building.

 

“Johnny, what have I said!” a woman chastises from the distance. “Flame off in the building!”

 

Ten feet.

 

He freezes. The heat sensors on his domino mask warn him someone is there, even if he can't see them. 

 

Through his heat vision, he sees a hand reach out towards him, and he lashes out as the person tries to grab him, kicking at the air.

 

He connects with something, but he isn’t sure if it was actually the person. He turns to run, throwing a smoke grenade behind him as he goes. The thick smoke fills the room and he hopes that it would throw the person off. 

 

He hears a quiet sigh and then hears a snap. Immediately, the smoke vanishes from view, leaving Damian exposed. He scowls. This was...inconvenient. 

 

He feels the air around him harden. Reaching out, he feels the air around him and it's solid. He sighs for the 100th time in the past hour. He was stuck in a force field. He doesn't bother to waste his energy trying to break free with force, he knows it won't work. He just crosses his legs and lays his katana flat against his legs and puts either hand on his knees. 

 

A woman appears from thin air, and Damian takes in her appearance. She has blonde hair, blue eyes, and a kind looking face.

 

Damian doesn't trust her one bit.

 

“Hi there,” she smiles down at him. “Seeing as how you’re just a child, I'm really sorry about this whole situation, but I need to keep both you  _ and  _ me safe until Reed can sort all this out.”

 

Damian refuses to answer. Mother said never speak to the unworthy,  _ especially  _ if you are their captive. You never know how much you can give away with one single word. He had already spoken too much.

 

She smiles at him again, but there's a humorous glimmer of recognition in her eyes that he doesn't like. 

He looks straight ahead and doesn't make a sound. If they wanted a captive, they wouldn't get a cooperative one.

 

She puts a hand to her ear and presses something. Probably a comm. “Hey, guys? I found him.” She pauses, tilting her head ever so slightly as she listens to whoever was on the other side of the receiver. “Back to the lab? Got it.”

 

Damian scowls ever so slightly. He would  _ not  _ allow them to experiment on him.

 

She seems to understand what he's thinking and smiles reassuringly. “We're not going to harm you in any way, don't worry.”

 

Damian doesn't like how easily she reads him so he lets his face fall perfectly smooth. Back straight, he keeps on staring ahead of him, taking in every bit of information he can absorb as she carries him in a forcefield orb throughout the tower to the laboratory.

-

A crowd had congregated in the laboratory, waiting for the woman to arrive with him. Blast-proof glass windows from the floor to the ceiling, and filled to the brim with scientific equipment that Damian surprisingly couldn’t discern the use for. He recognizes the man from before, as well as the child, but not the rest of the individuals. He frowns. How had Father missed so many criminals? He had a file on everyone. He needed to have a serious talk with him. 

 

The adults huddle together, ignoring Damian as they spoke in muted tones. He turns up his nose and goes back to inspecting his katana. He doesn’t know what kind of force field this was, but it was apparently soundproof, much to his annoyance. He had initially tried to read their lips, but none of them were facing towards him.

It’s times like this he wishes he had Cassandra’s ability to perfectly interpret body language. 

 

The child is staring at him curiously, and Damian glowers at him. He was not an animal caged in a zoo, displayed for all to gawk at. 

 

The child just eyes him and turns to say something to the adults, who pay him no mind. The kid stomps his foot once and booms something, and the adults finally turn towards him, exasperation written all over their faces.

 

Damian scoffs. At least  _ he  _ doesn’t act like an infant. 

 

The child points at him and the rest of them look at him. He stares back impassively, fingers curling around the handle of his katana.

 

The man with grey hair looks at the blonde woman in dismay and says something to her. Damian can’t hear what he’s saying, however, the man was facing him, which meant he could read his lips perfectly.

 

“You didn’t take the kid’s katana?” The woman just rolls her eyes and gestures to the forcefield. 

Damian grips the handle tighter. This was  _ his  _ katana and they would  _ not  _ take it from him.

 

The woman notices this and she glares at the man. “You're making him uncomfortable.” Damian watches her say. 

 

“ _ I'm  _ making  _ him  _ uncomfortable? He tried to carve my face off with a  _ katana.” _

 

Damian scoffs. If he had wanted to  _ carve his face off with a katana,  _ he would have done so. Not that he would ever do such a thing. It was too impractical. If he wanted to kill him he'd cut the main artery in the throat. It was a quick, efficient death.

 

A green-skinned woman in the back looks at them in amusement. She's probably Martian, based on looks. He'd have to take extra caution and guard his mind against any unwanted probing.

 

She sees him looking at him and sends him an awkward smile. He just stares. He doesn't know what else to do. All his training was useless right now. A bitter smile threatens to creep onto his face. Father would never get himself into this situation.

 

The child walked up to his forcefield, and at last Damian had a good look at his face. Brown eyes, brown hair, and despite his height of 6’7, could be no older than 12. Damian had figured that it was a child wearing armor that didn’t quite fit them, but he never figured until now, looking at the boy’s baby face, that he would be younger than a teenager. As the boy drew closer, Damian gripped his katana tighter, which caused the boy to frown in return.

 

“I don’t like him,” the boy finally said.

 

“Who’da thunk you’d not like da guy that attacked you?” the man covered in rocks said tiredly, plopping down on the couch.

 

“No. I mean I don’t trust him,”

 

Damian scoffs internally.  _ He  _ was the one who was kidnapped and entrapped in a force field. He didn't trust them either. In fact, if they didn't ‘trust’ him, they should consider letting him go. He had much more important things to do.

 

“And why is that, Kristoff?” a man holding an ant-like helmet asked, lounging on the couch and still eating his bagel from breakfast. “Are you afraid that he’ll replace you as the resident demon child?” 

 

The blonde woman shot the ant-man a stern look, and the man returned an exasperated expression.

 

“ _ First  _ of all,” the boy sharply responded. “I am  _ never  _ afraid.” He turned towards the ant-man just to frown at him, and the man just rolls his eyes. 

 

Damian scoffs. This child would  _ never  _ survive in the real world.

 

“Second of all, have we even considered that he’s a spy for Doctor Doom?”

 

Damian has no idea who Doom is, but at this point, he could care less. He runs his fingers through his hair, debating if he should just pull it all out and get it done and over with. 

 

“Why are you so paranoid about your daddy?” a young blonde man asked, arrogantly leaning against the wall. “He’s gone! Bon voyage, back to Latveria!”

 

Damian eyes the man through the corner of his eyes. ‘What an idiot’ he thinks.

 

“He never left Latveria, but I get what ya mean,” the rock man responded. 

 

“I do not believe Doom has our best interests at heart,” Kristoff frowned, and Damian notices the trace amount of tears had begun to build up in his eyes. “And by our I mean us personally, and the world. Time has come for him to take vengeance.”

 

“Listen to yourself, Kristoff,” the green woman remarked, crossing her arms. “Why would he send a child?”

 

Kristoff had an incredulous expression on his face, but none of the other members picked up what he was trying to translate. “Do you not remember the incident that made your Fantastic Four aware of my existence?” 

 

Damian tilts his head, listening to what the kid had to say. Any bit of information he could gather to use against these people was vital.

 

The green woman remained confused, the scientist looked away, and the blonde boy shrugged. Kristoff continued, “The first action the boy took was to attack Richards. Who’s to say he was not sent by Doom? Another child in his villainous grasp? Another accursed heir?”

 

They thought  _ he _ was the villain? Damian scoffs loudly, attracting everyone's attention, proving that while he couldn't hear what they said, they could hear what he said. Mother may have instructed him to never speak to his captors, but he's sure this specific situation warranted a response. He couldn't have people believing he was a  _ villain  _ while he worked with the Batman. How would people trust Robin, and in turn Batman, if they believed he was truly evil? Diabolical.

 

“I don't know who this _ Doom  _ persona is, but I assure you I am  _ not  _ affiliated with anyone with a name so absolutely ridiculous. And might I add,  _ you  _ kidnapped  _ me  _ so I do not believe any of you have the right to accuse  _ me  _ of criminal activity. You kidnapped me, I reacted accordingly. It's quite simple, really.” He tells his stunned audience matter-of-factly. 

 

Internally he snorts. He feels like he's giving a lecture right now with how he's seated in a calm manner with multiple faces looking up at him in confusion. It was ridiculous. He doesn't know where these adults received their schooling but he has the feeling that they should probably go back.

 

While the team stood dazed by his sudden speech, Kristoff frowned at him. “Oh,  _ now  _ you decide to converse with us. Right as I near exposing your secret plan. And Doom is just his  _ last name,  _ not like you don’t already know.” He tried to hold a regal composure, but to Damian, he seemed like a pouting child.

 

“Tt.” Damian sniffs, turning up his nose at this naive  _ child.  _ “Tell me, Kristoff, how would  _ you  _ react to being taken forcibly from your home in a torrent of blue lightning that is so painful to the touch that it causes you to fall unconscious? How would you react to waking up in an unknown laboratory with a foreign man standing over you, observing you like you were another of his projects? How would you react to being treated like a prisoner and an enemy after reacting as a way of self-defense? How would you react to getting kidnapped by a group of adults who then try to claim that  _ you are the villain who is trying to destroy you all?”  _ He finishes harshly, grinding his words together, mouth twitching up into an amused snarl. 

 

Kristoff’s hands curl into a fist, Damian’s speech seemingly has brought back a memory. But he stays silent. Damian slides back into a relaxed pose and loosens his grip on his katana, letting a loose grin crawl onto his face. “Besides,” he begins lazily, all traces of past hostility dissolving in seconds, “It's standard procedure to not speak to your captors. Anyone who works in the Field should know this.” He suddenly gets up on his heels and moves over to the side of the forcefield where the child was standing, getting as close to him as possible, and in a low voice states; “Besides, Kristoff, from what I've seen from this last hour and what my computer has gleaned from your system, you  _ would  _ want to use me as a scapegoat for your  _ Father.  _ Surely your allegiance is with him, not with these buffoons. Am I a convenient distraction for you, hmm? Throw the blame on me and while they try to find out more about me, you lead your precious father here to destroy them without any warning? A solid plan, expect that your inexperience betrays you.”

 

By the end of his speech had already Kristoff jumped at him, requiring both the scientist and the rock man to hold him back, much to Damian's amusement; he allows a loose smile to curl onto his smile. The rest of the team protested, reminding Kristoff of their values and the fact that punching the woman’s force fields would only hurt  _ her _ , but he didn't care. “You dare slander Kristoff Vernard?” he snarled. “I would never allege myself with that treacherous cretin Doom, perhaps before, but not after he revealed his true nature. You know not of what you speak of!” Kristoff lunged again at Damian, but seeing as how he didn’t active any of his armor’s functions, he didn’t seem truly intent on harming him. The rest of the team were somewhat surprised by this outburst, seemingly have not known Kristoff’s strong negative feelings toward this ‘Doom’. Kristoff met Damian’s eyes for a few seconds; Kristoff with a grave expression, Damian with a perfectly blank expression. At last, Kristoff looked away and stepped back from Damian. 

 

“Unhand me!” He yelled, and the rock and the scientist cautiously let him go. “And do not question my intentions. I wish to be alone.” He sets the iron mask back on his face, the cold, unfeeling facade taking over the sharp anger that was there a moment before. He moves to the corner of the room and sits, looking out the window.

 

Damian watches the kid brood in the corner and despite his eye roll, feels bad for him. The kid notices him looking at him and Damian’s mouth drops back down into a frown. “Word of advice,  _ never  _ let slip that you know too much. When you let too much information out, you are automatically deemed guilty because there was no way for you to know this information.” He tilts his head to the side with a loose smirk. “Unless this was another of your childish imaginations? Honestly, I don't understand why  _ children _ are allowed in these operations. They are simply too naive to handle the pressure. They start to  _ crack. _ ” Smiling calmly he slips back down into a cross-legged position, putting his katana onto his lap and placing his hands on top once more. Kristoff remained in the corner, unmoving, as the team slowly drew closer to Damian.

 

“Throw me to the wolves if you wish, but be advised, even wolves don't stay interested in one prey for much time. They always go after the next, sooner or later.” He advises, before turning his head away from them, signaling he was done conversing for the time being.

 

He does not allow the slight tremor in his voice to show. If they believed he was truly evil, he would have to be prepared to be hounded from all sides. He smiles bitterly;  _ that  _ was something he was used to.

 

The room goes dark as the sun hides from view, thick angry clouds crawling over the sky and obscuring it. Damian braces himself. Let the storm come; he was ready.


	4. doubt

**DATE: May 3rd, 1996**

**TIME: 1:45 P.M.**

**LOCATION: Four Freedoms Plaza, Manhattan**

**POV: Kristoff Vernard**

  
  


The entire Fantastic ‘Four’ - besides Kristoff - was crowded around the boy, who sat silently with pinched lips. For all the questions they threw at him, they were only met with silence. Kristoff looked down at his hands, refusing to speak after his most recent outburst. That boy was degrading his honor and dignity, and that was why he didn’t like him, he would tell himself. But he knew the truth was something deeper. Never again would he let the boy get under his metal-plated skin. If it meant not speaking to the boy at all, he would do so.

 

The team tried a different approach to get the boy to talk by explaining themselves, rather than constantly asking him his name and where he’s from and getting only silence.

 

“I’m sorry, I think this is all a big misunderstanding,” Sue said sweetly, and her eyes shifted to Reed. After a few moments of him not getting the memo, Sue made a hand gesture.  _ Explain.  _

 

“Oh, right. Sorry. Umm. It seems we have accidentally picked you up from your native universe.”

 

The child looks down at him, unimpressed, with his arms folded across his chest.

 

“I created a device to extract unique elements from universes never before seen. Your universe - along with many others - contains a new element, Kryptonite. We tried to pick that up, like we had with many different elements in many different universes, and … somehow you arrived instead.”

The boy stares them impassively, the white lenses on the domino mask masking any emotion the boy might be feeling at the moment.

 

Reed rubbed his temples. “When you destroyed my machine, the coordinates back to your native universe was lost. If you work with us, we can help narrow down which universe is yours to send you back. But without your knowledge of absolute variables, there’s nothing to go on. Only the amount of universes that contain Kryptonite, which is about one billion, three -”

 

“You don’t need to stress the boy out with numbers, Reed,” Nathaniel stated, lounging on the couch and eating an apple.

 

“I’m sorry,” Reed responded, looking sharply at his father. “I just need the boy to know that -” 

 

“The odds aren’t great,” the boy responded, not making eye contact with any of them.

 

Reed looked back at the boy with a somber expression. “Exactly.” Despite the implications that came with remaining silent, the boy continued to do so. But behind his masked eyes, you could see that he was doing the math.

 

“So, genius, what do we do?” Ben asked, analyzing the child.

 

“He stays with us,” Sue responded before Reed could. “This is an unfamiliar universe to him. We can’t hand him over to law enforcement and we definitely can’t throw him out onto the street.” She turned towards the boy. “Would you be fine with staying with us until we get this all sorted out? We swear we’ll send you back home the moment we figure out how. And our local mad scientist will be working on the solution 24/7, right, Reed?”  Reed wasn’t even paying attention; he was already at work, focusing on the calculator-like device in his hand.

 

“Hm?” he looked up. “Yes.”

 

“No!” Kristoff responded, finally standing up. He had vowed to stay silent, but he couldn’t any longer. “This little devil is not staying with us! I have been counting the seconds until he could finally leave my presence, and now he’s rooming with us? What next, he joins our team? I will tolerate his audacity no longer!”

 

“You were a little devil at first too,” Johnny responded, laying on the couch with a hat over his face. “Remember when you shot the Baxter Building into space? Good times. That’s the reason we’re in Four Freedoms Plaza in the first place.” Kristoff opened his mouth to argue, but Johnny continued. “And remember, right after you did that, She-Hulk tore open your armor to find just an eeny weeny seven-year-old. And your reaction? ‘Unhand the personnage of Doom! I am Victor von Doom! I am! I am!’” Johnny laughed, sounding half asleep. “Golden.”

 

“I have already  _ told _ you,” Kristoff started sharply. “I -”

 

“Guys, can we please focus on the matter at hand?” Sue cut him off. “Kristoff, I know you were brainwashed to become Doom, and it’s a tragedy, but right now we’re focusing on another boy’s tragedy.” Kristoff huffed and crossed the room, sitting in his corner silently again. Whatever. Let them bring the demon child into their home, and let them regret it.

 

The boy who seemed to be mulling over his options takes one look at Kristoff's angry face, smirks and nods politely at Sue.

 

Johnny smirks as well, obviously having realized that one of the reasons that the boy agreed to stay was because it bothered Kristoff so much. 

 

Kristoff frowns. He doesn't like how easily the rest of the team accepted this child. He thinks back to his origins with the team - they surely hadn’t accepted him as easily, had they? No - he assured himself - he had an alibi - Nathaniel Richards, and that was the only reason why he joined the team so easily. But deep in his mind, he knew they would’ve let him join anyways.

 

The child looks at him from behind his ridiculous cloth mask and Kristoff has to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at him. He resorts to a glare.

 

The boy grins lazily back, just as Sue releases the forcefield. 

 

Kristoff hopes that the boy will fall since the forcefield had been hovering in the air and she did it with no warning but the boy easily lands in a catlike crouch before getting up gracefully, still smirking at him.

 

He almost turns away but decides against it - thinking it to be too childish - and ends up still looking at the boy.

 

Said boy somehow manages to collapse his katana into a small object and put it in one of the many pockets in his utility belt.

 

Reed seems fascinated by this but a stern glance from Sue keeps him from hounding the child. Kristoff wishes he would. Maybe then he'd feel better about himself. 

 

He knows it was a childish and selfish thought, but he doesn't care at the moment. He wants this kid out of _his_ home and he wants him out _now._

 

Sue glances at her watch and sighs. “It's almost 2! Come along guys, I'm sure you're all hungry after this...eventful morning. I'm sure we can find something quick to put together.”

 

The kid eyes her suspiciously but shrugs and follows, keeping a hand close to his belt.

 

Kristoff scoffs. He wouldn't trust that kid farther than he could throw him.

 

-

 

The child sat across from Kristoff, waiting for the food to be presented to him. 

 

Johnny, Sue, and Scott were in the kitchen finishing up what was a rather late lunch and Reed was still downstairs with Ben,  Lyja, and Nathaniel, so he was left alone with this demon spawn.

 

He eyes the child, who was sitting up straight, not moving a muscle. He can't see exactly where the kid is looking because of that mask, but he's pretty certain he's watching Kristoff like a hawk.

 

Kristoff sets his mask on the table and allows himself a small smile. At least the child considered him enough of a threat to be wary of him.

 

“Food’s comin’ in hot!” Johnny hollers as he carries in two plates over his flaming hair and Sue sends him a deadbeat stare for the ridiculous pun he made.

 

Laughing and looking back at her, he trips and almost spills the red spaghetti sauce onto Kristoff's armor - which Sue catches with her forcefields before it could land.

 

“ _ Imbecile!”  _ He hisses through clenched teeth, veering his head to the right to avoid the splatter.

 

Johnny just laughs and tells him he needs to  _ lighten  _ up. Sue smacks him over the head with her forcefields, stating that was for being careless  _ and  _ for the pun, but when Kristoff looks over at the kid, there was a pained expression painted across his face, which disappeared as soon as Kristoff looked over at him.

 

Johnny places a plate in front of Kristoff and tells him to wait for the salad or “Sue'll kill both of us. Or maybe just me.”

 

They finish up setting the table and soon the others join them and they all sit down and begin to eat. As Kristoff looked at the full table, he realizes today was one of the few times that the team was all eating at the table  _ together. _ He supposed the child warranted a group lunch but was slightly jealous.

 

After a couple of minutes, they realize that the kid wasn't eating.

 

Sue frowns and puts down her fork. “Is something wrong, sweetie?”

 

The boy points at the spaghetti sauce in what looked like dismay. “There's meat in this.” He says in a woeful tone of voice, the first time that Kristoff had heard him say anything that wasn't cocky or mocking.

 

Sue frowns lightly before the realization hits her. 

 

The boy continues. “All life is precious, including animals’ lives. How can we say we care about life if we take the lives of those who cannot defend themselves.” He asks in an accusatory tone, glancing up at Sue.

 

She quickly grabs the plate from him. “I'm sorry hon, I'll get you a new plate without meat. Johnny, we still have canned pasta sauce in the fridge right?”

 

“I think so.” Johnny pauses. “Unless Ben ate it all.”

 

“I’m a hungry man! What am I s'posed to do?” Ben protested. “Egghead’s also got that weird space-friendly grow-with-water rice burrito in the fridge, and it’s alright if I hafta say so m’self”

 

“Umm,” Reed began, his mouth half full of spaghetti. “Ben, that wasn’t exactly ready for testing…”

 

“Whoops,” Ben threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. “Well I ain’t dead, am I?”

 

During the conversation, Johnny beckoned for Damian’s plate, which Sue handed over with a dubious expression. 

 

She then set to work getting him another meal, multiple ingredients and utensils already being held in multiple forcefield hands.

 

“Just start on your salad, hon! I'm almost done.”

 

The boy looks back at the salad and hesitantly picks up his fork, before setting it back down. He then pushes out his chair, picks up the plate of salad, and walks over to Johnny, handing him the salad expectantly.

 

Johnny eyes the salad. “Uh.”

 

The rest of the group eyes him curiously.

 

“Take a bite out of it.” The child demands in a bratty tone.

 

Johnny, once again, is at a loss for words.

 

Kristoff can't see the boy's eyes but he's positive that he rolled them. The boy lets out a sigh. “Take a bite out of this to prove to me it's not poisoned.”

 

Everyone's head whips towards the boy when he says that, frowns evident. No one says anything but Kristoff knows what they are thinking. ‘What had to have happened to this child to make him so untrusting of strangers?’ 

 

Johnny stabs at the boy's salad with his own fork and puts it in his mouth, making a show of chewing and swallowing. “Mm...Food.”

 

The boy eyes him suspiciously for a few moments before taking the plate from Johnny's grasp and walking back to his place at the table. With one last look at Johnny, he begins to eat the salad with a fork and knife, cutting up the pieces so that they are bite size. 

 

Sue walks over, an amused expression on her face and places a new plate of spaghetti next to his salad.

 

He finishes his salad while watching the boy finish his. Kristoff instantly begins working at his spaghetti but freezes when the boy looks almost hesitantly at Sue.

 

He watches Sue look up at him curiously.

 

The boy's mouth twitches before asking “Can I have a new fork?”

 

“You don't like mixing foods?” asks Sue, and the boy shakes his head. She smiles “The forks are in the second drawer to the right of the fridge.”

 

The boy looks at her, nods, and vaults over the table, landing on the other side and pattering into the kitchen in search of a new fork.

 

Scott's eyes bug out and Kristoff agrees with him for once. What person just casually flips over the dining room table? He narrows his eyes and looks into the kitchen, where Damian was searching the drawer. That definitely didn’t seem like a skill that Doctor Doom would teach his spy-heir.

 

The boy returns, holding the fork more like a weapon than a utensil, might Kristoff add.

 

He then makes his way back to his seat, picks up his spaghetti and makes his way over to Johnny once more, holding out the plate expectantly.

 

Chuckling lightly, Johnny takes a bite out of the spaghetti. Satisfied, the boy walks back over to his seat with his plate and sits down.

 

After a while, Sue finally speaks, “Why'd you only give it to Johnny? Why not me, Reed or one of the others?”

 

The boy looks her dead in the eyes and in a deadpan voice tells her, “Because he's the most expendable.”

 

Orange juice flies out of Scott's nose as he busts out laughing and Kristoff has to bite his lip to keep from laughing as well. Sue covers her mouth, but eventually, the whole team lets out a laugh in wake of the offended Johnny. Kristoff allows himself to smirk and looks over at the kid, who seemed to have the faintest trace of a smile, but it disappeared in a millisecond as he looks up and meets Kristoff's gaze, defenses going up in place.


	5. meditation

**DATE: May 3rd, 1996**

**TIME: 3:18 P.M.**

**LOCATION: Four Freedoms Plaza, Manhattan**

**POV: Damian Wayne**

  
  


Lunch was quickly cleared up and the woman had insisted that they all introduce themselves to Damian. Damian honestly didn’t care much for introductions, but he supposes they are necessary if he will be residing with them for the time being. He sits as patiently as possible, listening to them drone on about themselves. This universe wasn't any different in regards to humans’ need to talk about themselves. 

The blonde woman goes first, smiling brightly at him as she introduces herself. “Hi! My name is Susan Richards, but you can call me Sue. The four of us,” she gestured to herself, the rock man, the arrogant blond, and the scientist, “were bombarded by cosmic rays in space, and now we have these powers. I can turn invisible and make force fields. Cool, right?” Damian quietly noted the information, astonished that they were giving up their tactical advantage.

“Benjamin Grimm,” the rock man nodded, fedora slipping over his eyes. “But I go by Ben,” he smiled. “What else can I say? I’m a rock.”

“Johnny Storm, the  _ hottest _ person you’ll ever meet” the arrogant blond boy smirked, leaning against the wall. Sue nudged him in the ribs. “Wh- What? Really? Fine. I’m  _ Jonathan _ Storm. But don’t call me that. That name is reserved for my family and Doctor Doom when he’s trying to insult me.”

The three of them looked expectantly at the scientist, who was completely engrossed by the numbers on his tablet. Ben cleared his throat, and the scientist finally looked up.

“Uh…” he looked around, lost for a moment. “Oh! Introductions. Right. I’m Reed Richards. Just Reed. I… stretch.” He looked around expectantly, unsure if it was introductions they were actually doing, and then smiled at Damian. When Damian remained silent, the rest of the team introduced themselves.

“My name is Lyja,” the green martian look-alike smiled. “I can shapeshift because I’m a skrull. An ‘alien’, but you already knew that, right? Since you look human, you probably have skrulls back home as well.” Damian has never heard of a skrull in his life, but he wasn’t going to let Lyja know that.

“Nathaniel Richards,” the old man said, still drinking his milk. “I’m Reed’s time-traveling dad.” Damian almost frowned at that. This was turning out to be an extremely weird bunch.

“Hey. Hi. I’m Scott Lang.” the brunette man waved excitedly. “I’m uh… Ant-Man. Because I can turn into an ant. Not a real one, of course! The… proportionate size and strength of an ant.” Everyone was silent for a moment. “I swear, it’s cooler than it sounds.”

Everyone then looked expectantly at the grumpy kid. “What if I don’t want to tell him my name? He hasn’t told me his.” Damian resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at him. “After a few seconds, the boy angrily stood up straight. “Fine.  _ I _ will go first. My name is Kristoff Vernard. Adopted son of Victor von Doom, and formerly heir to Latveria.”

The group looks up at Damian expectantly, and he gwaffs internally. Surely they didn’t actually believe he would tell him his secret identity? Diabolical. He keeps his mouth shut, silently staring them down.

Finally, the flaming imbecile from before breaks the silence. “Uh, what can we call ya, buddy?”

Damian smirks slightly. “You may address me as Robin.”

The child, Kristoff Vernard, scoffs. “What kind of name is  _ Robin?” _

Damian immediately frowns at the blatant disrespect of his name. That name carried an important legacy. He did not appreciate this fool slandering his name in such a manner. When he turns his attention back to Kristoff, he’s still mouthing off, despite the rest of the team’s best efforts to shut him up. Susan throws him a concerned look before turning to Vernard, trying to shush him.

The child hesitates for a moment, now that she was reprinding him, but when he looks back at Damian his face hardens and he continues. 

Damian lets out a low growl, he as been  _ very  _ patient, but this child simply cannot be allowed to continue on mocking him, as well as the rest of his brothers.

He stares calmly at the boy for a minute before crawling across the table and gripping the boy by his green cape. ‘Listen to me,  _ Vernard.  _ That name is of  _ extreme  _ value to my family, especially my eldest brother. It is what his mother called him before she was  _ murdered before his eyes.  _ He took on that name for his hero persona to honor her, and my other two brothers and I have all carried his name and I will  _ not  _ allow you to mock him for it.” He growls through clenched teeth. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have revealed so much, but he’s in a different universe and he didn’t say any names so his family should be safe. Besides, he doesn’t think these people mean to hurt anyone who doesn’t do wrong. 

Hopefully. If not, he can always kill them. He mentally chastises himself for thinking that.

He’s still gripping the other child’s cape between his fingers and the child looks like he’s torn between being angry and being sympathetic. Damian hopes he gets angry. Anger, he can deal with. Sympathy? Not so much. It was too...icky for his taste. 

He lets go of Vernard and crawls backwards, sliding back into his chair and looking around the room, daring any of the adults to lecture him. They don’t.

They just smile sadly at him and Susan gets up and tells him she’ll take him to his room. As they walk out he hears the rest of the adults chastising Vernard and he feels slightly guilty. He shakes it off. 

They walk down a long, winding corridor before finally arriving at a room at the end of the hall. Sue opens it up and walks in, gesturing for him to follow, which he does, at a safe distance mind you.

She goes around, checking to make sure that all the sheets were clean and that nothing was out of place, much like Pennyworth would do at home. He frowns. He misses him. He misses his entire family.

Susan is still fussing at a pillow when she suddenly stops and looks over at Damian hesitantly. She starts to speak, before going back to dusting off the pillow. Damian watches her every move, observing her actions.

He knows she can feel his gaze on her, because she tenses slightly before looking back up at him, opening her mouth once more. “Hey, Robin, I know you don’t trust us much, and honestly you really don’t have a reason to, but I can tell you’ve had a lot of trauma in your life and-” She pauses, smiling slightly at him from across the room, “-if you ever want to talk I’m here. I’m always willing.”

“Thank you, but I’m fine.” He says in a quiet voice, moving out of the way as she begins to walk out of the room.

“Okay, but the offer still stands! Don’t forget that.” She tells him softly, before exiting the room, shutting it behind her. She didn’t try to touch Damian and he’s grateful for it; he doesn’t like being touched without permission.

Hopping onto the bed, his fingers brush against the pocket of his utility belt that holds a small piece of kryptonite; Richards may not know how he had managed to teleport Damian to this world instead of kryptonite, but Damian knew. It’s because he  _ did  _ teleport the kryptonite here. He just happened to drag Damian along for the ride, which was incredibly irresponsible on his part. Damian shakes his head and looks around the room.

 The room was large and spacious, much like his room at the Manor. He squeezes his eyes shut. It was  _ too much  _ like home. Everything reminded him of home.

From the puns the flaming imbecile made to the way that they all looked after each other as a family, it was an all too painful reminder.

A reminder that he may never see his home, his  _ family  _ ever again. His stomach churns and he struggles to stay calm, forcing the panic clawing at his throat to calm.

He walks across the room sits on the too-soft-bed, bringing his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around them.

Staring blankly ahead, he sees his reflection in the mirror in front of him. He looks drained and hopeless and he doesn't like it. He looks away.

Looking down at himself, he quietly observes his Robin uniform, gently running a gloved hand over it. It was his only reminder of home. It may well be his  _ only  _ thing from home.

He exhales hard, trying to force out the nervousness that was twisting in his stomach. He puts his left hand down to his side and he feels something soft beneath his fingers.

Looking down, he sees a bundle of black with a yellow note stuck onto it. Picking it up curiously, he looks at the note.

 

_ Hey sweetie! We'll get you some clothes later, but for now I left this hoodie for you ! I know that even if you don't show it, you're very nervous, and that's okay ! Hoodies are very comforting, so I'm lending one of mine to you until we can get you one of your own ! If you ever need to talk, don't hesitate :) _

 

 

  * __Sue <3__



 

 

It was written in neat, loopy calligraphy, and Damian feels a sharp pain in his chest. She reminded him of Richard. Gingerly picking up the hoodie, he picks it up and holds it out in front of him.

It was too big for him, but that was to be expected. The hoodie was clearly loved and it was slightly worn out. It was clearly a display of trust, lending him such a treasured possession. He would take the most care of it possible, then. He slips it on over his uniform. He knows he could probably take off his utility belt or at least his mask, but he's antsy and they helped him feel more sure of himself. And he needed all the confidence he could get right now. 

The hoodie goes down to his knees and the sleeves slide down past his fingertips, but he does feel a bit better so he decides that it was worth looking ridiculous.

He cards his fingers through his hair again, a habit that he had picked up from Todd. He smiles slightly, thinking about his ridiculous brother, before shaking his head, clearing it. Being in an overly emotional mental state would do no one good, especially not him if he wished to return.

He slides off of the bed and walks over to the cushion that was placed below the window and sits on it, legs crossed. He shuts his eyes and begins to meditate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyy! ladyxiris here. Unfortunately we probably won't be updating this anymore, but since our last chapter was already practically finished, I thought I may as well spruce it up and post it. We may continue this one day, but right now we're working on our own solo fics (uhjpg = naruto fic; ladyxiris = transformers prime fic) so if you want more content you can find us there! But for now, thank you all for reading our niche fic! It's been a ton of fun to write and we were surprised by the warm reception :)


	6. destruction

**DATE: May 4th, 1996**

**TIME: 7:12 AM**

**LOCATION: Four Freedoms Plaza, Manhattan**

**POV: Kristoff Vernard**

Kristoff was shaken awake by the sound of explosions. A distant rumble reverberated through the bed, and Kristoff jumped up sharply, his still-sleepy mind trying to catch up with what was occuring. Another explosion cracks the suddenly still air and his blood ran cold. This was either the work of the young brat, or the work of…

He didn’t want to think about it. He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, trying to dispel the stubborn idea that was wrapping itself around his brain. It was the brat, surely. It had to be.

Throwing off his blankets and swinging himself off the bed, Kristoff quickly threw on his suit and took off down the hall, where he ran head-first into the rest of the Fantastic Four, who looked just about as confused at the current situation as Kristoff felt. He doesn’t let it show but he’s secretly glad he’s not the only one that was thrown off guard. 

“What’s going on?” Johnny yelled, aflame in the middle of the hallway, floating a few inches off the ground. “Who attacked us?” The smoke curling off of him turns darker as his anger flares, and Kristoff finds himself glad that his suit protected him from extreme heat. An angry and fired up Johnny was not in his list of favorite things.

“Who else?” Kristoff sneered. “The young child we stupidly took in. He did it! He’s been suspicious from the start!” At least he hopes so. The other option was far less desirable. One child they could handle. The other man...not so much.

At that exact moment the said young child bursts through the door, katana in his grasp. He quickly surveys the room with thinly veiled concern before he sees Kristoff staring at him suspiciously and lets a sneer fall onto his expression . "You absolute moron. If I _had_ been the one attacking you, I would have been long gone. It would be illogical to stay after compromising my position. Honestly, use your _brain for once in your life,_ it won't kill you I promise."

Kristoff frowns and shuts his mouth. Now was not the time to argue, but if it wasn’t ‘Robin’, it must’ve been…

“No, it’s something much worse than ‘Robin’ here,” Reed stated, looking at a monitor on his wrist with an absolutely forlorn expression on his face as he reads the message once more to make sure he’s reading it correctly. “It’s Doom. He’s requested all of us.”

Kristoff felt the cold tendrils of fear as they started to wrap themselves around him and was grateful for the mask that hid his face from the world- not that his expression would give anything away anyways, his face was far too stoic for that. But lately it was becoming harder and harder to mask his fear.

The squad and Robin moved to the front of the Baxter Building, where they could see Doctor Doom floating - eighty stories up. He wore a metallic suit of armor similar to Kristoff’s, but his flowing deep green robes held no room for confusion.  He was crossing his arms in his usual arrogant manner, and floating behind him were dozens of Doombots. 

Kristoff grimaced. No matter what, this wouldn’t turn out well.

“What do you want?” Reed demanded, stepping slightly closer to the window. “The explosive you detonated caused no structural damage to the Baxter Building, but you knew that already, didn’t you?” His hands were held carefully away from his body, as if he was trying both to placate Doom and defend against him at the same time.

“What I want, _Richards,_ is my wrongfully stolen invention back," Doom enunciated slowly, as if speaking to a child. "This situation alone proves my intelligence surpasses yours, if you must resort to piracy to develop new inventions.”  He doesn’t even twitch as he speaks, staying perfectly still as he looks down at them.

“What are you talking about?” Reed questioned, a puzzled expression slipping onto his face. Realization then dawned on Reed and he turned toward Kristoff, eyes slightly narrowed as he eyes him, contemplating. 

“Yes. My rebellious runaway heir took off with the plans for my invention. While I could easily redraw the plans for my invention, nothing irks me more than my rival stealing _my_ ideas.” Doom turned his head, so that he was now looking pointedly at Kristoff. 

His blood ran cold, but he refused to show fear.

“Kristoff, you told me the plans for the multidimensional transporter were of your creation. Were they not?” Reed questioned, sounding disappointed. Kristoff flinches at that. He would have preferred him to sound angry. 

“It was,” Kristoff said, a bit shakily, but he held his head high. “I just neglected to inform you that… _father_ and I had worked on it together.” He said father sourly, as if the word reeked.

Reed looked disappointed, and turned once more toward Doom. “What do you want, then? The plans back? The invention?”

Doctor Doom began laughing while the Fantastic Four uneasily stood there waiting for him to finish. At last he finished, but when he did, there was now a metallic object in his grasp, and magical symbols floating around his hand. Not good omens.

“My dear Richards, _no_ ,” he said amusedly. “Your photogenic memory already knows the plans for the invention, even if I took the physical blueprint away.” He floated backwards a few feet, prompting the Fantastic Four to step back as well - and Kristoff’s shame prompting him to stand apart from them. “No, I have to cut my losses. I just wanted to give a reason for what happens next.”

Doom pressed a button on the machine in his hand, and the magical symbols around his hand vibrated faster. _Run. Run!,_ Kristoff’s mind yelled. But before Kristoff could get out a word, the world exploded around him, and his vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ladyxiris:  
> SURPRISE!  
> I know we said we probably wouldn't update, and we were legitimately not planning to. But we both got a sudden blast of motivation to continue the fic, and perhaps even finish it. No clue when the next chapter will be out, bc it depends on uhjpg's schedule, but hopefully soon! Thanks for sticking with us so far, and feel free to comment!!


	7. confrontation

**DATE: May 4th, 1996**

**TIME: 7:32 AM**

**LOCATION: Four Freedoms Plaza, Manhattan**

**POV: Damian Wayne**

 

The room shakes as the blast reverberates through the room and Damain crouches down, trying to avoid the worst of the blast. When the rubble seems to bounce off of the air surrounding him, he spares a quick glance at Susan Storm. Sure enough, she's surrounding all of them in her forcefield. Begrudgingly Damian admits to himself that her abilities were very useful when they're not being used against him.

 

As the explosions and falling projectiles slow to a stop, she drops the forcefield and no sooner had she done that that they were instantly attacked by what Richards had called 'doombots'. 

 

Ducking to avoid a punch from the current bot attacking him, he twists up and lands a solid kick to where the mechanical arm met the metal shoulder. Because it was a joint, it was likely to be weaker than the rest of it. 

 

Sure enough, it falters for a moment but doesn't slow the amount that Damian calculated it should have. Eyes narrowing, he pays close attention to the robot in front of him. It's armor was similar to the Vernard boy's armor, so it probably had a forcefield surrounding it too.

 

He sighs irritably. Sometimes he really hated technology. He throws a pellet at the robot and thick ice encases the bottom half and then he brings his leg down on it, hard. As predicted, the ice weakened the structure enough and a small crack appears on its leg. Damian wastes no time jamming his katana into the crack and twisting upwards, impaling the leg thoroughly, as well as the blaster that allowed it to fly. He then went for the groove on the neck. Unsurprisingly, it was significantly weaker than the rest of it and the head pops off nicely. 

 

"ROBIN!" Susan Storm's panicked voice rings out through the room and he opens his mouth, about to lecture her about the benefits of concealing one's emotions in the thick of battle when she beats him to it. "Where's Kristoff?"

 

Damian's mouth clamps shut and he scans the room, dodging doombots left and right. He scans twice with his eyes and once with his holocomp. He frowns. The boy was nowhere to be found.

 

He crouches down to avoid the torrent of fire that whizzes uncomfortably close to his head as a doombot tries to decapitate him. Damian whirls around and sends a nod toward Johnny Storm in silent thanks. Storm grins brightly and salutes with two fingers and Damian rolls his eyes behind his domino mask. 

 

Susan Storm moves to stand next to Damian as she wraps a forcefield around them. "Go find Kristoff. You're not properly suited to fight these doombots." 

 

Damian glances at her incredulously and motions to the doombot he had just decapitated.

 

" _ Now,  _ Robin. We're better suited to this fight. You're better at sneaking around. Please." She adds after a moment's pause and Damian hesitates, mulling over his options.

 

He was running out of pellets, and that seemed to be the only way he could incapacitate the bots. While he could easily keep up physically with his superpowered allies, they could take out any he could with far more ease. It was true, he'd be better off on recon at this moment. He lets out a small huff but gives the woman a curt nod and turns on his heel, sprinting off in the direction of the nearest exit.

 

Tapping his mask, a lens activating. The lens shows him Vernard's footsteps in a dark green color. Sighing to himself, he readjusts his grip on his katana and takes off in the same direction.

 

Damian's initial thought was to complain about having to chase down a child who was clearly not used to battle, but then Richard's disapproving gaze flashes through his mind and he immediately tries to fix his train of thought.

 

Vernard could have been injured and retreated as a result of that. Or he may have been emotionally compromised, he thinks begrudgingly. It would be unwise to stay and try to fight while in either of those positions.

 

The footsteps get more erratic the further he follows them and Damian feels an uncomfortable feeling settle in the back of his mind, a warning that is just out of reach. He adjusts his grip on his katana and increases his speed, flitting down the hall just like the bird he was named after.

 

The shadows seem to darken the further he walks down the building, the thick dark omissions of light reaching out towards Damian as he silently makes his way down the hallway. Eyebrows creasing, he runs his tongue over his front teeth as he contemplates his next move, trying to choose the best course of action. If he waits too long, something bad would probably happen but if he rushes in without thinking, he may be walking into a situation he’s not prepared for. He looks at a wilting plant as he contemplates his position, absently making a mental note to inform one of the Fantastic Four that their neglect of their houseplants is unacceptable. 

 

A dull crash makes him snap to attention and he takes off towards the source of the noise, cursing under his breath as he hurries down the long hallway. 

 

He slows as he approaches the entrance of the room, flattening his back against the wall and using the reflection on his katana to see what was going on in the room without actually sticking his head through the doorway and risking revealing his position. He spots Vernard crouching in a defensive stance, looking up at the ceiling. His normally sleek armor looks quite scratched up and Damian frowns. His armor was very good - Damian’s katana had barely left a scratch. Whatever he had been hit with was powerful then, Damian notes and tilts his katana up to try and see who Vernard’s opponent was.

 

Damian wasn’t surprised to see that it was the man that had threatened them earlier. Doom, Richards had called him. Damian’s lip curls into a smirk. What a ridiculous name.

“Vernard,” a deep voice boomed, presumably Doom’s. “I have allowed you to play this charade of rebellion for long enough. You will be coming home.  _ Now. _ We will deal with your punishment once we get there.”

“Never!” Vernard screams, and a second later a blast could be heard, and Kristoff went crashing into the wall. Through his katana he sees Vernard duck from a blow aimed for his throat and scrambled backwards, arms held in front of him. All his earlier bravado seemed to have melted away and Damian feels a hit of pity for him; he understood the feeling of standing up to someone you once considered family.

“Fine. Then I will bring you home myself.” Just as he’s about to climb into the vents and make a surprise entry from the ceiling, he hears a pained shout and looks back down at his katana, heart sinking at what he sees. Vernard was caught in some sort of electric trap, struggling but failing to get free while the man drops down with an air of indifference and walks up to Vernard, his expressionless mask glinting from the pale sunlight that’s streaming through a shattered window. He brings up his arm, the metal glove transforming into some device that’s pointed directly at Vernard’s head.

 

Cursing the boy’s incompetence and his own soft heart, Damian abandons his plan to enter the vent and his better judgement and runs into the room and throws a shuriken at the man’s arm, effectively knocking it out of the way. The weapon flies off course and embeds itself in the wall a few feet behind Vernard.

 

Damian crouches, battle ready, mouth curling up into a haughty sneer. 

 

If Doom is surprised, his body language doesn’t show it.

 

Instead, he lazily faces Damian, posture open and eyes him like Damian was something he found on the bottom of his shoe. “Ah, I was wondering when you would decide to show yourself.” He greets, voice booming throughout the room and grinding itself in Damian’s eardrums. His sneer slips into a wince and he resists the urge to cover up his ears, squaring his shoulders instead. “The young child. You radiate temporal anomalies. A byproduct of Richard’s egotistical experiments, I’m assuming?”

 

The man’s eyes look amused, like Damian was a puppy threatening a fully grown dog, and taking in everything, Damian concedes that comparison was a little too accurate for comfort. No matter, he’s dealt with worse by himself before, he tells himself. He raises up his katana in a challenge, and the man almost laughs.

“A katana?” he boomed, amusement lacing his voice. He opened his metallic hand, where unfamiliar mystical figures now encircled it.  _ Magic _ . “Tell me, have you heard of the ‘Crimson Bands of Cyttorak?’”

 

He pauses at the superiority complex, huffing silently to himself. Todd would say  _ he  _ had one but that was a problem for another time. Right now his priority was getting Vernard out of there, and getting him out of there in one piece.

 

He rubs his thumb and index finger over the pellet in his hand as he flips over another one of Doom’s strikes. This was a special fog Batman had devised for stealth when the opponent had a form of electronic vision. He only had one and he isn’t sure he wants to use it now, but he’s running out of options and he needs to get out of there fast so he can plan out an actual strategy. Besides, he reasons, if he uses it now then Doom will be more wary of him later on. Damian may know this is his only one, but Doom doesn’t. It’s a gamble but Damian’s weighed the risks and he’s willing to take the chance.

 

As he nears Vernard’s position, he throws the smoke pellet at Doom and the thick smoke curls over Doom and Damian makes quick work of the restrains, mentally thankful that Batman had forced him to take a refresher course in escaping from bonds. 

 

By the time the smoke clears out, Damian and Vernard are long gone.

  
  
  


Damian drags Vernard down the hall as he sprints towards cover. “Hurry!” He snaps at the stunned boy. They didn’t have much time before Doom found them and Damian needed all the time he could get. Vernard doesn’t seem happy about taking orders but he increases his pace so Damian decides not to yell at him for not wanting to follow orders. That could be done later when they’re safe.

 

They round a corner and pause behind a flight of stairs and uses his katana to check and see if Doom was behind them. He wasn’t and Damian turns to Vernard, but doesn’t let his guard down.

 

“Are you okay?” The question comes out harsher than he meant and he mentally cringes at the sound of his voice. 

 

The other boy doesn’t look up from his feet. Damian pauses, wishing that he knew what to do in this situation; he wasn’t as proficient with human emotions as he’d like to be. Maybe Vernard needed space?

 

He shuts his mouth, mulling a plan to get them both out of this mess and it slowly comes into place. He nods to himself, satisfied. Yes, that would work. 

He turns to Vernard, ready to tell him the plan, only to pause. Vernard hadn’t moved from his position in the entire time Damian had come up with a plan. He sighs irritably. They were being hunted, now was not the time to mope. He could do that later, or better yet, compartmentalize everything like the rest of them.

 

“Hey. Vernard.” He touches the boy’s shoulder lightly, not wanting to startle the boy and upset him more. He didn’t expect the sharp shove the other boy gave him before turning around.

 

Damian freezes for a moment before he feels his anger rear up from where he had been trying to cool it. “ _ What.”  _ He begins, voice brittle and quivering from all the anger curling in his mouth as he speaks “is your  _ problem? _ We are being  _ hunted.  _ We need a strategy to survive. I  _ have  _ a strategy. You should be all ears. I’m trying to help you.” he snaps, boring his eyes into Vernard’s own.

 

“I don’t need  _ your  _ help.” Vernard spits out, standing up and towering over Damian. “I don’t need  _ anyone's _ help. I can deal with my own problems by myself.”

 

“Clearly not.” Damian scoffs, wishing he was taller. He briefly considers kicking out Vernard’s legs from under him, but decided against it.  

 

“Shut up, moron! You don’t know what it’s like! To be branded from birth as evil! To have to submit your will to someone with no morals! And when you try to set out and make a name for yourself? To try and be  _ good? _ There’s no  _ trust! Everyone is just waiting for you to slip up just so they can point fingers at you and say ‘I knew it all along! That kid is no good, he’s made of evil.  _ I don’t need anyone to help me-I  _ can’t-  _ because no one will ever understand-” He trails off when he sees Damian’s unimpressed eyebrow raise.

 

“I was handed my first weapon before I could walk. I killed my first man at age four. I am the grandson of the Demon’s Head, the leader of the League of Assassins. My grandfather has done unspeakable things. So has my mother. So have I. But then my father saved me. He brought me home and he and my brothers and sister taught me that I don’t have to be what my grandfather made me.  _ I  _ make me what I am and nobody else’s opinion matters because  _ I  _ know who  _ I  _ am.” Vernard slips back down to the ground but Damian continues on.    
“And so can you. You had a bad childhood with an evil man? Tough, so did most other people. But here you have a  _ family.”  _ Damian stresses the words, gesturing around them. “These heroes  _ care  _ for you. They love you. You’re not alone and you don’t have to be, because when someone cares for you, they will do whatever they can to help because they  _ want  _ to. That’s what is so important. They don’t have to but they  _ chose  _ to. So suck it up and stop complaining because we have a man to take out and expectations to exceed.” He reaches out his hand for Vernard to grasp, mentally praying to whatever was out there that the boy would take his hand.

 

The boy regards his hand coolly, and just as Damian is going to withdraw his hand, grasps it tightly. Damian smiles and pulls him up. They had work to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so we wrote this like a week ago but procrastinated posting it, so here it is finally! At 1 AM nonetheless!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading lmfao
> 
> comment if you'd like👀👀


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